


Porcelain Doll

by Pleasedial123



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pleasedial123/pseuds/Pleasedial123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd hollowed her out but kept her pretty on the outside like one of those delicate porcelain dolls, their expression forever frozen and unfeeling. </p><p>Oh how pretty and perfect she was. Such plans he had for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Porcelain Doll

An elegant pale finger tapered with deadly nails gently stroked an even paler cheek, careful not to mar the skin. His hair hung like spider-silk spun of darkness and poison and dripping over his shoulders. His eyes were the only true color on him, red like the blood under his fingernails.

He exhaled softly and his breath rolled over her moonlight pale skin, misting at the edges from the evening chill. She didn't bat a lash at the distance, just stared at him with eyes the color of earth and wood. Her hair the color of a starless sky flowed over her shoulders like a waterfall of black ink, careless and free. She looked not at him but right through him her eyes empty, empty, empty. 

She looked like a beautiful porcelain doll, all beauty and cold, with a hollow mind and body.

He smiled at her, his lips barely upturning in a mockery of a smile and as he gazed at her. His fangs glinted in the night and she did not close her eyes despite the fact the spider loomed above her.

.--.

Kana was at his side, silent and soft and glowing at the edges like the brightness of all the white of her in the darkness was hard to contain. Her hands, soft and childlike, held his mirror perfectly still so that he could gaze into the surface.

On the mirror were flashes of gold and silver and red, and smiles. Happiness and laughter. There was no worry or panic.

To his left she gazed at the surface of the mirror with him but uttered no noise, showed no sign of distress. It was a test of course, just as every time, but she still did not respond. She gazed at it as if she did not see it.

"Kikyo snapped right into place," he spoke, his voice made of soft tones of venom. "Beloved mother, sister, friend, and lover."

She simply stared at the mirror and he could see that her eyes traced nothing of the people in it. She saw none of the tension at the edges of their smiles or the way their eyes search out a missing figure. Perhaps they are simply cautious as they should be. Either way it did not matter to him or her.

"She's yours."

It was a statement said softly but honestly, no emotion behind it and no mockery. Her lips barely moved when she delivered it to his expecting ears. He laughed gleefully as he turned to her getting joy from her simple observation. She would never have noticed such a thing before. But now, now with her eyes empty she can see so clearly. She can see the stings of his game and he is quite pleased. He did so love an audience. He reached up, wound a lock of hair about his finger and offered her a slice of a smile, a flash of teeth.

"Yes. She's a puppet and I shall play with her till she wears out. And when she does wear out, she'll kill them all with a knife in the back because I wish it."

She tilted her head slightly to let him tug more freely at her hair and he laughed at the simple sign of submission. He smirked and turned back to the mirror, amused all over again at the game as the lock of black hair falling from his elegant fingers.

.--.

He watched from his dark corner, observing her every breath. She sat in the middle of the room silently and mostly still, bathed in moonlight. Kohaku lay in front of her, head rest on her lap like a child and a mother. She smoothed his dark hair down with no love or mockery behind the movement. She said no words, showed no emotion, but the gesture amused him all the same simply because it showed there was still something in her of her old self. Some lingering memory drove her hand to offer this basic comfort.

It is wasted of course as Kohaku lay under hand eyes even emptier that her own. The eyes of a used and abused puppet ready to die just to forget.

She knew Kohaku was under his control, knows he controlled every things the boy did, right down to every heart beat. But still, she takes care with the way her fingers do not tangle and the way his head rests against her leg. He let her keep the child because it amused him. Amused him to see her treating the puppet more gently than she can treat herself. Amused him to see that though shattered irrevocably, she still remembers some lingering instinct. 

He smiled from his corner placid and amused and held the boys heart in his hand and knew one day he would take the boy away from her just because he could. He will destroy him in front of her with fire and steel and amusement. Just to see her reaction. He doubts he will get much of one, but it will still amuse him to destroy the boy in front of her eyes and watch to see if any part of her crumbles more or if he has already driven her to the limit and the pieces left are only dust in her soul.

.--.

"They abandoned you," he said softly. "They replaced you."

She did not even flinch anymore. He remembered when those words cut her like a sword to the heart. He remembered her every cringe, denial, and sob. Every scream, whimper, plead she ahd made. He remembered as he had pushed and pushed and she had fought and fought and fought. The battle was fun, but victory had been far more delicious. Words that had once killed her syllable by syllable now evoked absolutely nothing.

It had been so easy to break her. The kind ones were the easiest to break. They had the most obvious weaknesses. Love could be a double edged sword and Naraku had long since learned how to turn it against a person. He had long ago learned how to hurt the deepest with the simplest words. Naraku had driven her to a cliff, to the edge of her sanity, and then all he had to do was push a tiny bit more and let her shatter.

But while it had been a beautiful destruction watching her crash and burn, he had had more purpose. He had picked her up, picked up her pieces and pieced her together. Oh she wasn't the same person of course. He had put her back together just how he wanted, tossing out pieces he didn't care for. Too many shards had been buried in ash and pain. But he had pieced together a caricature of what she had once been, and replaced what was missing with strings that led back to him. The perfect little puppet that bent under his every will. 

"They abandoned you," he repeated, just because he could. 

It was driving extra nails in her coffin and still so enjoyable. He let his lips ghost over her pale skin and she did not resist. He smiled into her skin and wondered what her dear companions would think of this show.

.--.

"Obey me," he ordered, lips curving up.

Her empty stare took on no light, no emotion.

"Fight for me," he commanded, offering a blade.

She accepted the blade with a steady grip.

"Kill for me," he ordered.

She turned dead eyes on him and he saw no hesitation.

"Of course my lord."

He laughed and waved her towards Kagura who waited at the edge of the courtyard like a skittish animal. She did not like his new toy. Kagura was made of hate and pain and despair. He liked her that way, desperate and constantly fighting but somehow still proud. She was right to fear how he flaunted how empty his newest toy was. It showed the demoness how quickly he could destroy her as well.

The wind mistress bowed to him once, teeth grit, pride and hate trying to straighten her spine. She cast a quick glance at her new companion, with eyes full of pity and disgust. She is wretched herself, but she still thinks Kagome is even more wretched and pathetic. Naraku laughed as he waved them away. Kana was waiting for him with her mirror. He wanted to see how his little doll did away from his hands, sharpening her new blade in some pitiful human settlement.

.--.

Naraku laughed, genuinely delighted as he realized the challenge that had just stepped into the clearing. Before Sesshomaru can even open his mouth Kagome's is spinning towards him. The clash of their swords was the ringing sound of steel.

There was a moment where Sesshomaru was visibly taken back, eyes narrowed as he looked at the woman. The demon scowled and shifted throwing his weight into his sword. She is thrown back easily, her human strength no match for his. But she landed on her feet, sword raised ready to attack again, not shaken. He had trained her well. he had just had to remove things like fear and mercy first.

"Miko." Sesshomaru spoke, his voice laced with apathy. "What are you doing?"

She said nothing, just gazed at him blankly. She has nothing to say to him, nor has she ever. He is nothing to her, just another existence in this cold harsh world. If Naraku asked for his head she would obey, but until that moment he knows she will await his command.

"Step aside Miko. I have no quarrel with you." Sesshomaru warned, his tone a command.

It is unfortunate that Naraku's is the only command she will obey. 

"Tell him no." Naraku murmured.

Sesshomaru's eyes snapped to him even as Kagome echoed him. 

"Naraku." Sesshomaru said, voice warning and demanding at once.

"Sesshomaru." Naraku mocked with a wide smirk. "Do you like my new toy?"

He reaches around Kagome both arms hovering above her shoulders and both hands resting on her cheeks to show her off. She stills in obediently under his hands and let him tilt her head like he is a merchant showing off his wares.

"So you've gained control of her like the slayer's brother." Sesshomaru scoffed, a underlying sort of pity and disdain mixed together in his voice. 

"Oh no, not for her." Naraku said, teeth flashing in a grin of triumph. "No, she's not under my control by any spells or strings. She could leave at any moment she wished."

It is a good lie. Something to make them doubt his absolute victory over her. She could technically leave, but she never will. There is nothing left her to tell herself to leave. She lived only for him and his command. 

"Miko." Sesshomaru addressed, not getting any straight answers from Naraku.

She just bared her sword at him and slipped into a protective stance, Naraku at her back. Naraku carefully reached around her neck to tug a necklace from her kimono. The almost whole Shikon no Tama glistened beautifully, a soft tempting untouched pink. He had not tainted her, not turned her away from the path of the miko. No, he had done worse, he had broken her, shattered her soul, and left only her powers and purity intact. She would not taint the jewel because there was nothing dark or evil in her. She was to empty for that. Even to the end, even after all he had done, she had not fallen into disgrace.

"See. She could leave at any time, with this gem even and she does not," he smirked. "Kill him Kagome."

She lurched forwards to fight for him. Oh he knew she could not kill Sesshomaru. But she would try her hardest and it would show the demon lord that the little miko was very much changed. Perhaps he would pass the message on when Naraku finally stole her away and fled. 

.--.

Naraku sat on the soft moss of the forest floor, back to an old tree. He sat among bodies, corpses of men who had tried to attack him, thinking that a large group of humans could perhaps challenge a single demon and a woman. Naraku had enjoyed ripping them apart with Kagome at his side.

"Come here Kagome," he said, crooking a finger at her.

She glided over obediently, leaving her sword in a dead bandit, feet making but a bare whisper against the grass. She knelt before him, waiting, and he reached up to run a hand through her hair down to the collar of her kimono.

In one fluid motion he pulled the top of the kimono down her arms, giving him a clear view of her throat, collar, and cleavage. The Shikon rested gently in the hollow of her throat. He leaned towards her, languidly, and inhaled the scent of her skin. All he smelled was himself. She tilted her head back to give him better access as he nosed at her throat thinking of how easy it would be to rip into. 

"Kagome," he whispered as he dragged his teeth across her skin, "Tell me who owns you."

"You," she said, voice clear and even.

He felt a laugh well in his throat and smothered it in her shoulder. It sent such a thrill down his spine when he thought of all the people who would scream if they saw him doing this to her. How Inuyasha would rage, how the Slayer would break again, how the monk would be ripped apart inside. It is these thoughts that drive him on, ripping the obi from her kimono and sliding his hands down the flat planes of her stomach.

"And what can I do to you"

"Anything you wish."

"Good girl," he whispered a smirk tainting his lips.

When he pinned her to the ground and loomed over her, prepared to devour her, she said nothing, simply awaited it. He took everything she had to give him with relish, sinking his fangs deeply into her being to drink everything up.

.--.

"Kagome, Kagome, Kagome." Naraku whispered into her ear. "Can you remember?"

"Yes," she said, honestly.

She can remember her life, her family, her friends. She can remember her capture, the torture. She can remember giving in, in surrendering. She can remember everything she once felt. Everything she once knew. She can remember ending most of it herself. But she feels nothing. There is no emotion to these memories.

"Let her go!" Inuyasha roared, his voice deep and raspy, filled with a burning rage

"Do you want to return to them?" Naraku asked, delighted as the horde of demon keep the team at bay.

"Kagome!" the monk screamed, high and desperate, even as he was pushed back by the overwhelming numbers. 

"Do you want to save them?" Naraku smiled. 

"Naraku!" the Slayer raged, her faithful companion saving her from a beading.

"Do you love them?" he laughed.

"Kagome!" Shippo cried "Mama!"

"Or are you mine?" he asked, air mingling with her own as he asked his question breathlessly.

"Yours," she finally replied.

"All mine?"

"Yes," she said unflinchingly.

"No one else's?"

"No one's."

His lips widened in a grin and the spider looked at the pretty little fly wrapped in his web.

"I have won," he whispered. "They just don't know it yet."

Everything is his, including victory and her. When he kissed her the screams rose even higher.

"Kagome," he breathed, whispered, caressed."Kill them for me." 

It was not screams that greeted her as she descended from his side, hair fluttering behind her and blade ready, and eyes so terribly terribly empty. It was cries, pleas, begging. She heard none of it and when her sword clashed with Inuyasha's his tears drained him of his strength to fight. The Slayer had already been broken by her brother's loss, but this would help push her to the edge. The monk, everyone he loved long lost to him, was worn down by yet another loss. The kit did not understand the world well enough to see that Kagome would be the death of all of them. 

From the first moment steel rang out as her once family fights only half-heartedly back, Naraku started laughing. His perfect beautiful little puppet just carries on with empty eyes. She was a porcelain doll; eyes unseeing, body and mind hollow.

Onigumo had loved Kikyo, who stood back watching this fight, just as under his control as Kagome. But Naraku, Naraku loved Kagome most out of all his puppets. He got no joy from Kikyo as he did from Kagome. A reincarnation for a reincarnation. Kagome was his. So beautiful and obedient and such destruction she sowed. He loved the lines he could see on her shattered soul and the scars on her mind all of which he personally laid. He loved how she was his, completely and utterly.

"Rule the world with me," he laughed.

.--.


End file.
